Adversus Solem ne Loquitor
by MisplacedSanity
Summary: I am the grey in a black and white world. But no one likes someone skipping the line of black and white and doing something new.
1. Odsum I am here

_Yes, I know it._

_In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know._

_You see?_

_Even death has a heart._

_-the Narrator, Death from __The Book Thief_

_/_

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Odsum

I am here.

I stared up at the sun in the world that detested my very existence. Yes, you heard me,_this_place wants me_out._Or rather the King does. No, I'm not some outlaw in some lameass fairytale story or some shit like that. Fairytales ain't real. The good guy doesn't always save the day in the end and run off into some lamely-placed sunset and disappear into the horizon. The bad guy doesn't always lose and say, 'Well, that shit sucked, I'm gonna give up and call it a day.' Things don' work like that here. The good guys can loose a million an' one times over till they actually win. The bad guy ain't some pushover with a shitty laugh that'll give up as soon as he's been put down once. And their main evil intentions ain't at all lame.

At least real life and fairy tales have one thing in common. There ain't no room for the color grey. There's a black an' there's a white. No grey. No one likes grey marring their sense of perspective. To them grey's an ugly color.

I live in that grey, I was born in that grey. But no one likes someone skipping the line of black an' white and doin' something new.

And for that reason I don't live here, I'm just here.

And if all goes to plan, I shouldn't be here for very long. The power of the Moonless Sky has been activated and fired outside to end the bad guy and the good guys will have their day of victory, but not without its losses. The same goes for the King and me.

He will lose his power. And me. Me, I'll more than likely cease to exist in this place as it crumbles to nonexistence in the absence of its sole inhabitance.

I don't bother turning toward Zangetsu-san when I ask my question, "So, this is it, huh? The King goes out with a bang while we just sit here and wait ta be nothin'. Ah, what a fine existence, Zangetsu-san. We served our purposes right ta the very end. And we'll be gone and no one but the King will know it. You were the more appreciated of course out of the two of us, I was just a bother. I ain't gonna be missed."

It's silent for a few moments over on his end of the crumbling office building that is steadily losing its shape. Pieces of plaster and insulation crumble off its structure and fall into the watery oblivion below us to bare its steel frame bones and electrical wire veins and arteries; we're standing on the foundation of a dying world. And we'll soon be the next to go.

Finally, in a moment that takes an eternity, Zangetsu-san speaks, "Perhaps," his voice is still light with all the youth represented in the King's manifestation of the spirit of his Zanpakutou in full Bankai but it's still weighted in tome upon tome of Shikai Zangetsu's wisdom of his age. It's pitifully sad to hear him speak of our downfall in his own voice, it makes the whole damn thing seem so final. He continues, "But you speak as if it's the end of everything there is."

I'm quite honestly taken aback at this. Hope? What kind of hope can be pulled out of this? I know Zangetsu-san has more of a plan than me and the King put together, but even Zangetsu can't pull a solution for even this! Me, being me, has to beg the question for this. "What th' 'ell you talkin' about Zangetsu-san! Did being apart of each other's mind mess you up somehow! Listen to yerself!"

Zangetsu continues as if I had never spoken at all, "Mugetsu, the Moonless Sky. The Moon has its time to shine its light upon the world, it is weak at first when it first appears but steadily grows in strength till it reaches its full power. It has its time at its strength until it wanes, piece by piece, night by night it disappears from the sky. A new moon."

I listen impatiently to Zangetsu's rambling, what the hell is he talking about? I finally cannot take any more of his poetry and turn angrily on my heel to face him; he still faces away from me staring at gods knew what.

"The fuck you talking about Zangetsu-san! We're talkn' about the King's remainin' power, not stargazing!"

"To talk about one is to talk about the other. The moon rises, grows, stays in its prime, fades, dies, and grows again. It's a cycle. The same goes for your shinigami power. The state and unleashed power of Mugetsu, the power of the moonless sky, is merely the stage of the new moon in the night sky. It will vanish for some time but will return eventually."

He has me there. ". . . I see. But where does that leave us now?"

Zangetsu-san turns toward me with something I've never seen on his face, young or old. The ghost of a smile flickers across his features. "Us? No, you, Ichigo. I am Zangetsu, 'The Cutting Moon'. I go with the Cycle. I am a part of it. You however are a part of this original soul, you stay here. You never shall be a part of this change. Until I return you will be the sole inhabitant of this dormant soul. The interior guardian to keep the exterior well guarded in my leave. But you've always done that, haven't you?"

My eyes widen in surprise when he addresses me by the name I rejected. I haven't answered to that name in gods knew how long, why should I be associated with a name I did not deserve as a fallen soul? Didn't Hollows hide their identities with the formation of their mask? But... I wasn't out there. I'm in here, separate but still whole, a Hollow with a name. A grey in the black and white world.

"The- I, I won't accept that."

"You have before."

"That was a different time, I wasn't aware of the consequences."

"But will you change you?"

"Change what I was taught to believe out there of what's in here? That's insanity."

"It can be done. Worlds have turned in the favor of actions and words. Is this world any different?"

A shrug of my shoulders, "Maybe. Who knows. It won't be that easy."

"Then let that difference be known, Ichigo. When the moon comes again the two will become one, the way it should have always been. The Soul Society has looked in one direction for far too long when it has come to the dual souls of Shinigami and Hollow."

I give him my best shit-eatting grin, "Speaking against the sun? Cause chaos in the ideals of their so-called 'morality'? And just cause full-out anarchy? You got it Zangetsu-san! 'Till we meet again then?"

He nods solemnly as his form begins to fade, "Until the moon rises again, Ichigo."

I give a nod in return, albeit less curtly, and a sloppy salute as a thought reaches my mind again. Grey does not exist in fairy tales, it's only black and white.

I am that grey and this ain't a fairy tale.

* * *

Edit 6/11: Chapters one and two edited by the wonderful Miku Alli :)


	2. Ad Quod Damnum To Whatever Damage

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Ad Quod Damnum

To Whatever Damage

I remember the last time I managed to escape my so-called jailer of the ruling state of mind. I remember feeling a pain through my chest from a wound that wasn't mine; I awoke to screams of anguish, disbelief, and above all the master of all minds no matter how humane or instinctual: fear. I remember raising my head to swirling black clouds that spat and crackled with undercharged electricity, the stench of ozone and blood and even more fear hung heavy on the air of the inner world. The rain, that accursed rain now bit harshly at my skin; it had now taken an acidic quality. I ground my teeth and snarled at the sky, my blood boiling as a mantra filled my ears that kept in time with my beating pulse, pounding like a war drum.

_Protect... Must protect... protect..._

The same words came, unbidden to my own mouth. Words that weren't my own but at the same time were. A contradictory thing that did in fact exist. The same words repeated again and again.

Bone-pale hands clenched at my sides.

_...protect..._

A blue-grey tongue flicked across my too-wide grin. Feral and predatory.

_Must..._

Muscles rippled and twitched with a thinly veiled anticipation.

_...protect... protect..._

Gold on black eyes narrowed, chromatic irises glinting. Instinct melded with resolve.

_Get up._

My eyes squeezed shut.

And opened.

I remembered staring out of darkness for the first time in ages, an ungodly yet controlled power possessing me. Bone colored dunes stretching as far as my eyes could see punctuated occasionally with thin, sickly trees. I have never in my half life seen this place with my own eyes but had seen enough of my other self's experiences to know where I was. Hueco Mundo, the world of hollows. Fitting.

I heard a noise, low and deadly like a slow-killing poison. I glared in the direction, not caring to turn my head. A bat-like thing stood before me, thin as a rake and pale as the sunless desert around me, a long whip-like tail lashing the sand nervously; bony black wings arced above its head. Emotionless green eyes calculated me carefully. Yes, you creepy fucker, I got a different form too.

He spoke again, obviously trying to gain a response from me. I bared my teeth from under my mask in distaste, I'd answer when I want to, but I really didn't want to get into a long-winded conversation at the moment. I flicked my right wrist lazily, and immediately felt Tensa Zangetsu's weight in my hand and grinned as I decided to go for the gusto today as I brought the blade crashing down on the earth below my feet sending this world's crust rippling into the air. I remember releasing a howl that shredded my lungs and ripped at my throat.

From there on it gets blurry. Blurry as in a whirlwind of snapping bone, the rumbling of crumbling foundations, the roar of flames, the screams of ceros ripping through the sky.

I almost lost myself again that day. To the instinct I relied on, that I lived by. I gave myself over to a bloodlust like no other. I almost lost the last few shreds of humanity I desperately clung to.

I almost became truly a hollow at heart and mind.

When I came to I was back on the inside, the sky was cloudy but with a normal hue of stone grey; no rain, no electricity.

No pain. No fear. What replaced them was remorse.

This time it was mutual.

After that I didn't attempt to forcibly take over. Even when called upon I refused to be pulled outside and broke the mask on the face outside. I didn't dare to be lost again.

That's my reason. Why I so want to prove Soul Society wrong. Why I want to prove myself wrong, inside and outside.

Hollows are remorseless, heartless creatures that indiscriminately kill.

I have remorse. I'm a hollow. I'm not a mindless animal.

That's my reason.


	3. Audi Alteram Partem Hear the Other Side

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Audi Alteram Partem

Hear the Other Side

/

This world is forever measured by time

It is controlled by the swings of Life's pendulum and this World's clock

_Tick_, the future is approaching.

_Tock_, the future is the present.

_Tick_, the future is now the past.

_Tock, _a new future is approaching.

We mere mortals can never control that pendulum, forever swinging our fates away

Our choices, the gears that move Life's greater mechanism

And we can only look upon time's face as our lives pass us by.

/

_Seventeen Months Later_

The sun was rapidly slipping away into the safety of the horizon, as if it itself feared the darkness of the approaching of night as the suburban sprawl stretched underneath it settled into its daily rituals of the coming evening; shopowners packed up their wares, executives and lawyers in the buisness district of town drove home in expensive automobiles in rush hour on the highway looking like a mulitcolored snake formed of glittering dimonds as it weaved at a snail's pace toward the the residentual areas, shoppers hefted their bulging bags, near ready to split, over their shoulders and left shopping malls and centers. All retired and deserted.

Leaving the night life free to roam.

Despite its quaint appearance, Karakura, like any other town had its underground: gangs, hustlers, thugs; any other low-life, really, that you can imagine all trying to either to make ends meet or just to simply cause a disturbance with the dealings of their opperations. And like any other town there is always a wrench in the system pulling at the cogs to silence the wracket of the unslightly machine.

And any gang of Karakura will tell you, if you're fool enough to walk up and ask, just what that opposition was. The answer will _always_ be the same.

_Kurosaki Ichigo._ And a few well-placed curses on the name itself thrown in for good measure.

A teen with a bad desposition, menacing hight, an ever-present scowl and to top it all off a shock of hair of the most eye-gouging hue of orange. It was a well known fact on the streets, when night took over day, that Kurosaki Ichigo _hated_ gangs. According to a few members of several scattered within a three mile radius of the town he had been working against them since the boy had been a freshman in high school and had several scars and trips to the emergency room to prove it.

They cursed his name and spat upon it or else just laughed at the ones who told horror stories of those who recounted tales seemingly out of proportion to be true. '_He drove that guy's face into the pavement with his own foot? Man, what have you been drinking!'_

Those same people who later would have a unexpected run-in while in the middle of 'buissness' with a paricular highschool student would never doubt those stories again.

Kurosaki Ichigo was not a person to be trifled with.

/

The fight broke out in the usual way: an attempted mugging and a sudden intervention. A word-duel followed soon after, the perpatrators unaware of the fact that their quarry had scurried away from the combatants' raised voices before the real brawl could start; all according to the person of intervention's plan. After one too many uses of swears and threats it came- all errant fists to the jaws and knees to the stomach that prompted the appearance of busted lips, bruises, and black eyes.

One of the three perpatrators broke free of the whirl of blooded knuckles and wild kicks groping around his pockets and pulling out a four inch switch with a malicious grin. He barked his orders to the other two who promptly stopped their blows upon the intervention to pin both his arms in place. The knife-bearer's grin grew wider, he'd be welcomed by the others like a king once the word spread that he had ridded the gang of The Problem.

What he didn't know was the The Problem in question had his own agenda coupled by fighting experience that far exceded mere fist meles in the streets. Not waiting to hear _this guy's _rant of acclaimed glory and respect once he'd gotten rid of him, yadda yadda yadda- he was aware of the unofficial price on his head, he'd heard it all before. He shrugged off his two capture's hands- really, they just kept getting more and more pathetic- with ease, pressed each of his hands on the back of their bewildered heads and brought their foreheads together with a sharp _crack_. Both thugs crumpled like ragdolls onto the concrete, stunned.

He turned his focus onto the man with the switch, who now stood trembling like a leaf before fall's winds, the arm that held the blade held limply at his side, his eyes as wide as dinnerplates.

"Now, if I were you I'd put down that toy down before someone gets hurt."

The man nodded vigorusly before turning towards his beaten companions, gave the word to retreat- to which they happily obliged- and scrambled off without looking back.

/

My name's Kurosaki Ichigo, I'm seventeen years old, I have brown eyes and orange hair (yes, it's natural), and I'm a student at Karakura First Highschool. In a few more months I'll be graduating.

It's been seventeen months since I last saw and participated in anything concerning the spiritual world.

Since then, I've picked a few fights here and there on the street, all of them involving me protecting an innocent. If I don't do it who really will? I'm powerless but that dosn't mean I'm useless.

And that no matter where I turn I just cannot stay away from fighting for my life and for others'. In a way I'm staying true to my name and my previous goal as a shinigami.

I'm powerless but I'm not useless.

Every day in school I watch out of the corner of my eye as Ishida jumps to his feet in the middle of class and shouts about going to the restroom- an excuse I prefected two years of my life- and storms out of the room. I ignore the whole oraganized facade as I feel the eyes of the others bore holes of concern into my back, later I'd throw together an excuse for them that I was perfectly fine about the whole deal. The other day Kiego asked if I missed Rukia, if I was lonely. My answer: "Like hell I'd be!".

I walk home, the golden glow of the setting sun dying into the inky black of night, holding a scrap of tissue paper to my bleeding eyebrow, my free hand going unconciously to my pocket. My fingers brush the cold, lifeless metal of the substitute badge; I've taken to carrying it around with me where ever I go, not as a good luck token or some crap like that, but as a reminder. For whatever reason it's lost its wieght since I last used it and feels hopelessly light in the pocket of my jeans as I walk around town day in and day out, bumping into the side of my leg, further feeding in that feeling of being persistantly reminded.

I'm powerless but I'm not useless.

I repeat these words to myself every day for the past seventeen months, like the badge in my pocket. I'm not sure any more if it's a reminder or a lie. Lies seem to come true if you repeat them enough. If lies were an art then I'm the Grand Master of painting them on the canvases of my doubtful mind.

I sneak in through the back door to avoid my father's over-enthusiastic greetings and both his and my sisters' pressing questions as to why the side of my face is scraped raw and my eyebrow is split and bleeding into my eyes. I'm cleaned up by the time dinner starts; no one is the wiser. It's better off that way.

Day in and day out it's the same thing; dodge questions at school with a half-assed grin, beat some poor bastard's face into the concrete for a helpless stranger, wipe the day off my face before dinner rolls around, and throw myself onto my bed to restart the cycle.

But for whatever reason, maybe because fate is seriously out to get me, a throbing pain starts in the back of my head as soon as I hit the matress. I screwed my eyes shut and mashed my face into the pillow with a snarl; some poor bastard is definitely going to get the recieving end of this tomorrow if this headache doesn't let up anytime soon. But, little by little I feel sleep being to tug at my conciousness and I willingly give in, praying for an uneventful sleep.

Like I said, fate just loves to toy with me.

I opened my eyes, not to my bedroom or the hallways of my school -although I was relieved that it wasn't, school dreams are never the best kind to have in anyone's situation- the place is achingly familiar and a soft pang of regret tugs at the back of my head as I recognise the place. Skyscrapers stretch themselves out to oblivion as I sit on one's glass-paneled side, the blue skies above smeared with grey clouds as a sharp wind pulls them along horizontally over the sideways world. My own world. It's the same as I'd left it last, a few of the buildings reduced to the markets, office buildings and appartments. Some are crumbling, pieces of plaster and cement fall continuously into the depths of streets below.

_"Ah_." I muttered softly to myself as another section of office cubical creaks and groans before falling and never seen again, "This place is tearing itself to pieces. It's-"

"Dyin'. You can say tha', yeah. And your dumbass can save as many people as yeh can but yeh never could save yourself."

Something in my memory jerked at the watery, echoing voice as I turned, nearly toppling over with the force of it.

"You-!"

"Calm th' fuck down. It's jus' me. Ah, but I forget, you hate me, huh? Che, you mus hate yourself somthin' worse if you're letting yourself go from th' inside. Look at this place! It's a fucking dump! I thoug' we had more self respect, Aibou!"

"What the hell are you talking about? And why the hell are you here?"

"Wha' am I talkin' 'bout! Have yeh taken a look around! You let yourself go! It's pathetic!"

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

The hollow stopped, glared daggers at me, then continued, "If yeh didn't listen the firs' time, that's your own damned fault. So I'll repeat it for your stupid sake and poor old Zangetsu-san's memory. The Final Getsuga Tenshou rids you of all spiritual power and your _shinigami powers._"

"So you stayed?"

"You sound dissapoint'd. Yes I stayed, if yeh haven't noticed I ain't classified as shinigami powers, yeh dipshit. What the hell've yeh bin doing out there ta make it look like shit in here?"

"Wouldn't you know?"

"Nah. I've been asleep since this mornin'." It arched its shoulders back with a loud _crack. _I glanced at it noticing for the first time that it wasn't wearing the white and black shihakuso and that it now wore a normal black t-shirt and black jeans instead. "I'm stiff like hell and it's fucking boring 'round 'ere. I wonder who's ta blame for that?"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Nah, I suppos' yeh didn't. But... th' past is th' past. Hm, ah, 'fore I forget Zangetsu-san tol' me a little somethin to pass 'round ta you when this day came."

"Zangetsu? What did he say?"

The hollow grinned knowingly, its eyes flashing with amusement at me, some things never changed: "He want'd me and you ta somehow get along while he's out."

"WHAT?" _What? _Me work with the demon in my soul? Either Zangetsu somehow lost it or the hollow is making a fool of me. More than likely the latter.

"Ah. That's what he said, I ain't lying!"

"Hell no!"

Its eyes narrowed again, the yellow flashing dangerously, "Don't believe me then, but it's the truth. Whatever me an' Zangetsu did was always in your best intrest, Aibou. And besides, I know enough to see right through yeh and tell that you hate your powerlessness, this whole place is evidence! Yeh hate being blind ta the things you could see, but yeh can't do anything 'bout that but just find a way ta take care of the things in front of yeh. But that ain't enough, it's never enough for yeh.

"I'll let yeh go for now, but think 'bout it, Aibou."

The skies went black around me and the pale white reflection vanished.


	4. Cogito Ergo Sum I Think, Therefore I Am

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Cogito Ergo Sum

I Think, Therefore I Am

I pounded my way across the cold blue windows, feeling the glass crack under my bare feet as I paced with growing irritaion. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was ever good enough for him! Ever! And why should he believe me? Me, the dark half of his soul, the not-to-be-trusted inner hollow that would eat him out from the inside if given the chance, the foul loathesome creature hiding under his skin. Why should _I _be trusted? I knew this was a fool's errand Zangetsu had sent me on from the very get go; he would never see any of the truth in anything I said unless the Old Man was here to back me up on it. What was I doing? Why am I doing this?

_Because you want to be heard out for once. You want a voice._

I stopped, shut my eyes and rubbed at my temples in an effort to keep myself from punching out the already broken glass floors of the abandoned world I lived in. Great, the voice in your head has a little voice of his own. And sadly, it was right, I want to speak for myself. That I wasn't a monster; I can think, feel and speak, that I'm not a thing hell-bent on distruction, that I'm not an 'it'. But how the hell am I going to convince anyone of that: Soul Society, the Vaizards, Ichigo, his friends, and most of all myself? I'd seen what atrocities I was capable of if driven to the madness of a hollow's strongest of all weapons, instict.

But hadn't instict gotten me and Ichigo out of so many scrapes? Discovering Zangetsu-san's name, finding Getsuga Tenshou, defeating the Crazy Nut with the Spikey Hair, Pineapple Head that Cat-Hollow-Thing? I scratched at my stark white hair irritatedly, that last guy had gotten on my nerves far too often. And if Ichigo didn't have the strength to do it himself I'd help him here and there. At first he acknowledged it, starting with Crazy Nut Man. If I hadn't formed the mask under his shihakusho before Crazy's nameless Zanpaktou gutted him he'd been a goner for sure. I repeated the task during his fight with Pineapple Head as well, again, happy to be alive. The final time, I pushed it a bit too far and pulled myself, mask and all, out to scare the crap outta Stick-up-his-Ass-sama. One thing about Aibou, he's a one man team, he says he'd appreciates the help his friends give but in reality he'd much rather see them out of harm's way. And me? In my case I'm a nuisance. Sure, he liked the help when I covered his ass from getting butchered at first but, one, he saw it as a luck thing and two, he didn't know at the time what it was and why the mask had appeared out of nowhere. Ichigo didn't like it one bit, said he didn't need my help, that I was interfering and stuff like that and yanked me out of control.

He needed my help that time as well. In all seriousness if I hadn't butted my way into that fight he would have died for sure.

I sat down, my head aching fit to burst and continued to rub away at my scalp with black fingernails as I decided on my final plan of action:

He needs my help as much as I need his.

A win-win situation: I need a voice; he needs his eyes, senses and some form of power.

Perhaps the Old Man had thought this whole thing out before either of us could, if he had he would of course known of the dangers this would set up as well: Capture a la the Gotei 13, questioning from Central 46, instantanious execution vi the Sokyoku and if we're lucky and there's enough of us left a dissection and experimentation complements of R&D. Oh, yes, what a plan, Zangetsu-san.

With a huff I stood up again to continue my pacing, back and forth back and forth. It occured to me that as silent as he was, Zangetsu-san was a decidedly... average companion. Without him it's pretty damned dull. I fell out of my worn pacing-path to lean against Zangetsu-san's usual flag pole perch.

"Ya know Zangetsu-san, it's pretty damned boring here around Aibou's head. I ain't like yeh, I don't take settn' still all day too enjoyable. I guess this is another reason why I want ta live my life. Being the horse ain't no fun. And bein' the King lost it's appeal ta me some time ago. I want ta be me."

I cocked my head toward the pole, almost expectant for an answer, but like this world, like Ichigo, like the rules of the outside world it had no time nor care to give me my answer. But with time, luck, and a bit of concincing I knew the world would turn. For now I'll just keep asking my questions to deaf ears until they have the knowledge to hear them with an open mind. Like Zangetsu-san said, worlds have turned in the favor of actions and words. My time will come.

". . . An' ya know Zangetsu-san, I'd like ta have a name again. I'd like an ident'ty. Somethin' I can answer ta. Somethin' all my own. Is that too much to ask fer Zangesu-san?"

Again, silence.

"Names. . . what are they really, Zangetsu-san? It's bin too long since I last had me one, I was one person back then. But now I'm two. One body, two souls. Shouldn't I have a new name? I'm not exactly Ichigo anymore and I want my own name. I wan't something that's mine for once. I'm his equal, I've had enough with th' Horse an' King crap, but I ain't him, I'm me."

I stared up at the sky, it'd now turned inky blue with a smear of pink on the sideways horizon: Ichigo was still asleep. Even in this world the sun still existed at night while the perpetual crecent moon dominated the sky above the ruins of the inner world. I closed my eyes as a soft breeze wafted around me feeling it ripple my silvery-white hair and echo across the walls of the building I stood upon, the only undamaged thing in this world. Yes, I'm just as broken as the ruins around me. Unwhole, unsound, and nameless.

But soon, no more.

* * *

A/N: Ah, yeah I'm on a bit of a writing spree at the moment. Sue, me XD I just thought we all needed the Hollow's reaction on his and Ichigo's reunion. Ahahah-

-erhem-

Anyways, nowwww (drumroll and trumpets) I need the readers' opinion! I need a name of Japanese origin for the Hollow that you, as the reader, will pick! Please, be original and appropriate about this as you can, he needs a name that will fit!

I'll leave this open for two and a half weeks for you guys to put in your names.

Keep in mind, that it'll have to be on the same grounds as Ichigo's name (1 and 5, to protect one thing, first protector, strawberry) and have a double or triple meaning: a traditional name that usually has a hidden meaning and has a humorous world meaning as well.

Please, once again be creative with your entries!

Thanks for your support,

SftS


	5. Genesis Birth

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Genesis

Birth

The mind is a delicate thing, precociously balanced on the tip of our consciousness and our instincts, eternally in danger of falling into whichever weighs most heavily in the forefront of our beings. The mind of Ichigo Kurosaki is no different from any other, perhaps more finely balanced, but not much different.

The winds in his world howl like some lone phantom, whistling ominously through the deserted wasteland of crumbling phosphorescent blue towers that reach on and out forever in their inverted fashion as the thin cottony clouds amble mindlessly across the pale blue of the sky and the sole inhabitance of this world is in deep sleep, his thin, pale figure curled onto his side as the world around him grinds onward, uncaring to his existence. With a small snort he pulls his knees closer to his chest as his silvery brows knit together slightly and a electric blue tongue pokes snakelike from between pale lips to swipe itself across the corner of his downturned mouth. His eyelids flitter softly as his eyes rove sightlessly under the closed lids. He snorted again with something of a strangled snore as a spidery bleached-white hand with long splayed fingers tipped with coal black nails rake at spiky, silvery white hair. Sharp teeth grind together in a lock jawed grimace as a single word is ground out between the sleeper's clamped jaws: "Monster."

/

If you ask anyone- anyone normal that is, specifically someone who's not locked away in someone else's mind, that'd work- if they remember the day they were born. I seriously doubt someone, if anyone, you ask will. If you so happened to ask me I'd ever so happily (sarcasm, my specialty) go into the gritty details about the whole damnable process. Quite simply, I'm the product of a bastardized hollowfication, the predicted outcome of a hacked experimentation, a scientific abomination, the new modern moster of Frakenstein. And if you could so kindly give this damnable creature your open-minded and undivided attention, he will willingly tell you the tale of his ill-fated birth as he experienced them. Sit back, relax and don't you dare say I didn't hold back the nasty truth.

* * *

"Let me tell you one thing," the kid said darkly as he turn back around to look at the figure pinned by his arm lying on the ground, "it's been 70 hours since you've came into the shattered shaft. If it goes well one would be a hollow by now. And one more thing." His glare became a sneer that made to figure's eyes grow wide with fear.

"The strength of the last corrasion is stronger than any from before."

As if on a theatrical cue, fanged mouths bursted to the surface of the remaining links, snarling and biting at the remaining length. Four inches left. Three. Two. One. Splintered links began gnawing on the octagonal plate, revealing the perfectly hollowed out cavern inthe figure's chest. Then-

"Sto- _Stop! No! Gauugh!"_

_._

_._

_._

_"What are you doing? Pull me out! This world is collapsing!"_

_"It won't! It's stuck!"_

His grasp was held tight around the familiar red-wrapped hilt, franticly willing, praying that it would come free as he sensed rather than saw that the sky scraper filled world around him and the Old Man crumble like dust around them into the black abyss; he was wasting time and it had no intention of waiting for him. His palms began to sweat franticly making his fist slip across the cold metal and redoubled his efforts and grasped the guard with his left hand. He numbly felt the distinct ripping, tearing, gnawing sensation in the center of his chest and didn't need to ponder on what its meaning signified.

"Shit! Shit! SHIT!"

A black hole. A black hole was forming. Right in the dead center of his chest_. Oh, god. Oh, god, I'm dead. I'm dead and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm dead! I'M DEAD! _

He roared in frustration, the muscles in his arms protesting madly and the ripping growing far more painful than he could bear with one final herculean effort he pried the blade free.

What he didn't see was the dark, gloomy figure behind him shake his head sadly. His wielder had won this fight, but at a cost. He had been seconds too late. The process had already begun.

/

My head. It hurt. So bad. Where am I? It's dark. I can't see.

I'm cold. Why?

... There's a light now. I can see. But where am I? I look around and at the blue sky above me. I remember now. I'm still in theat sideways place, and...

I suddenly jerked upward, I'd been laying on my back against the cold glass of the same building when I first entered. I blinked, cautiously taking in the surroundings again, afraid that if I made another sudden move everything would crumble on itself again. It looked the same though; albeit solid and whole, nothing crumbling away like ancient ruins at the mercy of a wrecking ball...

"Stand up. Instinct has already spoken to you that this place is stable once more. Stand up, Ichigo."

My head jerked around at the voice, that one wierd gloomy guy had called my name again and somewhere deep inside told me to answer, _"Wha-?"What the HELL?_ My hand slapped to my mouth to cut off the strange watery, rasping that had issued from my throat. And...

My hand? I pulled it away from my face to get a better look at it. It was pale. Not like never-seen-the-sun-pale, oh no, not even close. Pale, abalaster pale. Chalk pale_. Death pale_. I turned the once familiar appendage this way and that, I must've been gawking, open mouthed at it. What was I supposed to feel? My skin is now pale as a sheet of fresh paper, a blank, bleached white; my fingernails an ugly coal black. What was I supposed to...?

I lunged foward toward the nearest window, the nearest available mirrored surface, like a drowning man lunging out of the crushing sea to fight for air_. This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening. THISISNOTHAPPENING_. My face,was this my face or some sick joke?, was as pale as my hands_. Death pale_. My hair silvery white_. Death_. And my eyes, oh god, my eyes. Two sickening garish yellow gold points situated on a flat background of black. From my kneeling position on the ground I tucked my head into my hand with a soft whimper, I don't want to see that face any longer than I need to. My teeth, feeling sharper and more predatory than before, ground into each other as my jaw clenched, _"Monster."_

"Stand up, Ichigo. What is done is done. All that matters is that you did not fail your friends on the outside. Your soul was split into two halves. The stonger half resisted the hollowfication process and is now outside but eventually will succumb to the hollow influence on the half within. You have become the hollow half but you are not pure hollow. You can wield a zanpakto, and if the time and circumstances arise you can perform Bankai."

_"Why does that matter?"_

The voice of the Old Man persisted, "All is not lost, Ichigo. Stand up. Now is not the time to be wallowing in despair, a real warrior does not succumb to fear. Fear weakens your grip on the hilt, fear dulls your blade, fear weakens you faster than any fatigue. Stand up, Ichigo, and face that fear and uncertainty and scream in its face."

I growled. He didn't get it. He just didn't get it. I curled more in on myself, and vaguely felt my fingernails bit into the skin of my palms.

"STAND UP, ICHIGO."

And I stood, and I bellowed and screamed and raved like a madman, but not in the way he wanted, oh no, I knew one thing he did not and I wanted to get that across right here and now.

_"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT! DON'T **EVER** CALL ME THAT AGAIN! I'M NOT HIM ANYMORE! THE MOMENT I BECAME THIS ... THIS ... THING, I CEASED BEING HIM! ICHIGO ISN'T HERE ANYMORE! HE NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL BE!"_

I gasped wildly, my lungs were burning and my throat felt like it'd been ripped to pieces. My legs wobbled underneath me and I fell like a tower that had its supports smashed into a million pieces. I pulled back one of those ugly pale fists and smashed it through the window beside me, ignoring the pain in my broken knuckles as my blood spattered across the clothes I wore.

At that moment I didn't know what was worse. Having the eyes of a hollow or being dressed in a sick backwards parody of a shihakusho. I deserved neither.

* * *

Well, that's it. My birth. Comment all you want, it's never going to change how it happened. Over the years I've learned to accept things how they are. It took a while, but I settled with it.

Ah, mornings. Morning never change in this place. Me and Aibou have clashing sleeping patterns, unsuprising as we clash with just about everything else, it's just the minor things that are just so damned ridiculous. I yawned widely and stretched myself out rather unconvenionally, catlike I suppose. I stared up at the sunny ceiling of my home, noting the thin clouds that ambled lazily across the sun; a good mood with the smallest hint of apprehention. I'm not a forecaster or fortune teller or any shit like that but I could tell something was gonna go bad, and fast.

I shrugged my shoulders out, unwiding the knots in the muscles as I called out aloud, knowing Aibou would hear me from outside, "So, did ya sit on it las' nite or did ya jus' forget and hope I'd go away?"

The building I sat on jerked slightly in response, the equivelent of a minor earthquake and I sniggered despite myself; he totally forgot I resurfaced and I must've scared him shitless.

_"Leave me alone. I've got bigger things to worry about than you."_

"Oh? Is tha' right? Like?"

_"School. I'm walking to it right now. So shut the hell up and leave me alone."_

"Che. Whatever. What would-" My smartmouth retort was cut off as a violent shaking rattled the world around me, the half ruins swayed and threatened to wholey collapse. I fell back onto my back and slid clear across the mirrored blue surface of the building I took residence on and clutched the edge to keep myself from falling off and down, sideways, whatever into the abyss.

"What th' hell is going on up there Aibou?" I hollered to my half as another nasty wave made its way across the world bringing a gust of fear, adrenline and something much worse to my senses. Hollow.

Hollow. He was being attacked by a hollow. As a human. No weapon, no powers. Hollow.

/

"Shit!" I weezed, gasping for air_. Blind, blind, blind. I couldn't see it coming. Weak! I'm so damn weak_! The hollow above me roared its frustration as it stepped over my lifeless body it had just batted my soul out of like an enormous cat with a mouse. It's the cat and I'm the mouse, and nature will take its course and I'll be dead, powerless and unable to defend myself just like a hapless mouse. I ran, panting, feeling the vaguely familiar strain on my spiritual body as I dashed foward, I bearly had time to register the metal plates sitting proud on my two chests, spirtual and mortal, where the single, empty bronze hoop was melded looking strange without the Chain of Fate dangling from both bronze attachments. Nevermind, I now have even larger things to worry about.

A loud spitting hissed through the air at landed with a loud _splat!_ next to me, I looked down in time as I ran past to note that the greenish substance was eatting a hole in the pavement. The beast can spit acid. Shit.

The lion-like hollow pounded after me, roaring as it gave chase, its tail rearing up over its back and over its head revealing a snake's head at the tip, readying its acid-spit weapon. I redoubled my speed and ran onward down the streeting knowing deep down that this next aim would be true and that I didn't stand a chance in hell of surviving this time around, but I ran anyway like a bat out of hell. Funny, in the past I'd walked up to life threatening situations, I was constantly playing Russian Roulette with Death himself and spitting in his face each time I'd come out the victor. This time though I had no trick up my sleeve to save me, no fallback, no plan B. And this time Death would so happily claim his long awaited prize.

I tripped and stumbled onto the ground, feeling the unprotected skin on my palms split against the corse cement and felt warm blood gush from the lacerations. A huge weight seated itself on my back and cruched me carelessly into the pavement; the hollow had come to claim its prey and pressed my body beneath its paw. I heard a slicing sound above me and felt the hollows claws stab into my back and resisted the urge to scream in pain.

Ironic.

Of all the times I thought, moments from death, that I would die at the hands of an espada or Aizen himself as a shinigami. Here comes fate to tell me different.

Ironic.

_"Dying? Ah. Not today, Aibou. The Reaper's 'To Do' list hasn't landed on yer name just yet, partner. Today we fight to live another day."_

The familiar white tar-like substance appeared and began to solidify itself around my fingers, coiling up my wrist and over my shoulders. The wounds on my back gushed the same substance then solidified to form a smooth armour from the chimera-hollows claws. A tickling sensation coming from the area of my neck and upper back told me that my hair had lengthened considerably and now hung in jagged curtains over my face. A thick reptilian tail, patterned red, pounded a crater into the ground behind me. And finally a mask coalesced into a single solid plate over my face.

_"We ain't giving Death the satisfaction of claiming us just yet. Stand up, Ichigo. You ain't dead yet." _

_

* * *

_

AN: This right here is the longest chapter I've done to date (2,611), hooray!

Besides that I'm not particullarly fond of it so there may be some changes later on. (It's so ridiculously disjointed.)

Yes, I'm very aware that the Chain of Fate isn't there on Ichigo's chest and that there may not be any sort of anchor there at all. But I've got some theories. PM me if you care to know.

Special thanks to Annemanga-ka for answering the naming request! I apologize many times over for updated so belatedly. -runs to the corner of authoring shame-

Review please! This story (and my determination) is fueled by your thoughts and opinions.


	6. Conformity of our Minds to the Fact

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Adaequatio Intellectus Nostri Cum Re

Conformity of our Minds to the Fact

The hazy folds of mid morning sunlight spilled onto the polished wood of the neatly organized rows of desks, the thick stuffy atmosphere brought on by the heavy, lazy middle of May air. Summer was fast approaching and with it the anticipation of the final days of high school for the senior class. The home stretch was here and it took its shape in chattering excitement.

And Ishida Uryu was outwardly bored.

He could really care less about celebratory parties, who was going where and doing what. Oh no, that was secondary (maybe not secondary exactly, very low-priority, yes that was the word) after all so many things were so much important than a group of washed out, tipsy graduates come 'after ceremony madness' as he had dubbed it. What was more important were his own agendas: getting into a high profile med school and keeping the local hollow population in check. Box one had already been checked off on the schedule, done and done and all that, but box two really could never logically be checked off. Like the hydra in Greek mythology you can slice off one feral, vicious head (or in his case, shoot; mindless slicing was reserved for shinigami) but you can bet on nine more to spring up again more vicious and cunning than the one before.

He shifted his glasses in an unconscious movement of his fingers. There was one thing on the schedule that was not right, though.

Ishida Uryu was an individual of meticulous, almost paranoid, order. And what he found today at exactly 9:05 A.M did not please him. Just make him more paranoid.

On Monday, May 16th, at 9:05 A.M., first period Calculus, he counted three heads. Including himself, one Inoue Orihime, one Yasutora Chad. No Kurosaki.

Outwardly, none of them showed any particular concern over the fact that one of their own was missing. Internally, a different story was being told. To his immediate left, three seats away Inoue shifted imperceptibly in her seat, two behind him Chad cleared his throat minutely. From both: wave upon wave of worry exuded. Ishida himself narrowed his eyes and adjusted his hold on his pencil.

Something was up.

Kurosaki did not skip class for no good reason. Nowadays there was no reason. Just one day out of the entire school year was missed, no sick leaves, no middle of the year vacations, not even a funeral leave.

Something was up.

The graded papers stapled to the walls flapped madly in an unfelt breeze and the weight of a ton of bricks fell on the lungs of the spiritually aware. Uyru's eyes widened slightly at the welcomed distraction and rose in the now ritualistic display of haste.

"Bathroom!" he called over his shoulder at the nonpulsed Calculus teacher who didn't bother pausing in his explanation of the day's lesson.

/

The current resident shinigami, Zennosuke, lovingly (or otherwise) known by the spiritually aware citizens as 'Afro-san' coincidentally was not in a good mood either.

First and foremost, he greatly disliked his job. If it wasn't the great multitute of hollows that were attracted to Karakura's over the top spirtiual activites like moths to a streetlight it was hideously over powered former-taichous hellbent on controlling everything in exisistence. Or even, Soul King forbid, neon-haired, smart-mouthed, Substitute shinigamis. Fortunely for him two of those particular factors had been taken from the list; it had been close to two years that he had seen or felt anything unusual.

Personally, he liked things the way they were.

As he lept from rooftop to rooftop he enjoyed the sight of a sky free from over-confident, over-sized zanpakuto wielders and ridiculous butterfly men.

Normalcy, thus was the life.

Unfortunately, fate did not have hin in her favor today.

A large spike of reiatsu hit the air at that exact moment, thick and smothering, pulsing sharply as cut the atmosphere around him almost bringing him to his knees, gasping and clutching at his throat and forcing him to curl into a tight fetal position in an attempt to block out the aura's suffocating presence. Gradually it lessened into a sharp and steady pulse, much like a hearbeat and tolerable enough for him to return to his feet and gauge it.

Hollow. An adjuchas class at the very least, and a strong one at that. Zennosuke pressed his senses harder into the throbbing pressure until he found the second: a smaller entity, its aura barely holding a candle to the second but enough to make it somewhat threatening.

He grunted slightly, unsheathing his Zanpakuto from its place on his waist with a slow rasp of metal.

He really hated his job.

* * *

The newly formed being's aura fluctuated, unsteady and uncontrolled hitting various highs and lows as its muscular white form writhed underneath the second hollow's claws, occationally uttering echoing hisses and spits interlaced with unintteligable mutters. Another high powered pulse and the creature pinning it down was forcibly thrown off its back with an angered snarl that quicky turned into a yelp as more reiatsu pressed it into the concrete.

The lizardlike hollow continued to writhe and squirm in place, its claws grinding the asphalt into gravel underneath it, tail haphazardly whipping at the air above in crazed jerks. Its head raised suddenly into a cry crossed between a scream and a roar before jerking and falling to the pavement again

/

"Nice ta see ya again."

"Why are you doing this? What do you want? Go away!"

"Idiot. Ya never noticed did ya? Sure yeh were a bit thankful at the time but..."

"What are you talking about!"

"'What am I talking about?' '_What am I talkin' about?' _Who kept yer sorry ass alive all this time? Kenpachi! Abarai! Kuchiki! And dare I say it the Quarta Espada! You wouldn't have came outta those fights alive and in one piece if it weren't for me! And you were fine with it until I stepped in and took your fight!"

"And those were my battles to fight! I didn't need your help!"

"_Don' make me laugh! _You were floundern'! Near dead! Every last time! And then you went to the Visards to contain me! Use me! So don' tell me you don' need my help!

And right now, _right now, _you need my help and you know it! Listen to me and listen to me well! You need my help now, without my senses you're fightin' blind an' without my power you're helpless. I'll make you a deal, I'll lend you my power in exchange for your trust."

"And why would I trust you? How do I know that you don't have some kind of ulterior motive for all of this?"

The white figure sneered in response before worldlessly kneeling onto the innerworld's blue glass floor, lightly placing it's fingertips to the cold, cracked surface. Instantaniously the surrounding area shimmered at the contact, flowing like water. Indistinct figures were now shimmering across the surface of each panel of glass, broken and unbroken, which were, Ichigo now realised, individual memories.

_". . . I see. But where does that leave us now?"_

The hollow's voice, calmer and somewhat... concerned echoed around them, the sound bouncing off the sharp angles of the still-crumbling skyscrapers.

_"Us? No, you, Ichigo. I am Zangetsu, 'The Cutting Moon'. I go with the Cycle. I am a part of it. You however are a part of this original soul, you stay here. You never shall be a part of this change. Until I return you will be the sole inhabitant of this dormant soul. The interior guardian to keep the exterior well guarded in my leave. But you've always done that, haven't you?"_

_"The- I, I won't accept that."_

_"You have before."_

_"That was a different time, I wasn't aware of the consequences."_

_"But will you change you?"_

_"Change what I was taught to believe out there of what's in here? That's insanity."_

_"It can be done. Worlds have turned in the favor of actions and words. Is this world any different?"_

_"Maybe. Who knows. It won't be that easy."_

_"Then let that difference be known, Ichigo. When the moon comes again the two will become one, the way it should have always been. The Soul Society has looked in one direction for far too long when it has come to the dual souls of Shinigami and Hollow."_

The two voices, rumbling and highpitched, echoed more strongly before dying in the drizzling rain that soaked the two of them to the bone.

"Those were Zangetsu's last words to me before he vanished, along with your shinigami powers, reiatsu, and your sight. But there was one thing I decided for myself not long afterwards. I'm not you. Im not Ichigo. Screw tha' King and Horse crap. Lissen ta me, Aibou, I want ta be treated as an equal and an individual. Not at it and not jus' a Hollow, got that?"

"We've got a deal then... Aibou."

* * *

_A/N Ok, so fixed up, plot device added, and a bit more rationality added in for flavor. Sorry about the wait if there was any waiting for the redo. This is just a bit of part one of two of the opening action and conflict set up. if there's anything that doesn't seem right please inform me and I'll get right to it._

_Also, fine time to lose all my notes on kido incantations. /grumbles_


	7. Conformity Part II

Don't Speak Against the Sun

Adaequatio Intellectus Nostri Cum Re

Conformity of our Minds to the Fact

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

/

A low rumble began to fill the air, thrumming and pulsing in a steady beat, quiet at first but steadily rising in intensity. Wave upon wave of pressure making itself known, a white noise settling thickly apon their surroundings, swirling and whistling ominously. A white-clawed hand twitched at its position on the ground, scraping long gouges into the concrete as it curled into a sharp, bony fist. Slowly and frighteningly unsteady the figure the hand belonged to rose to its jointed, tri-clawed feet, pale, curved talons scraping heavily across rough cement as the creature steadied itself onto its feet.

The newly formed being stood at six feet in height, an added six and a half feet in thick, muscular tail whipped behind it, swirled in a deep red and studded with spines along its sinuous length. Simular markings adorned its body, extending from its chest out from an octagonal bronze plate in a rayed pattern. Muscular white arms, decorated with sharpened blade-like protutions at its elbows, along with bright red tufts of fur at the wrists and hands tipped with long white claws. A jagged mane of shockingly orange hair rippled to the creature's mid back from which long quill-like spines extended. And finally the simple skull-like mask, still unchanged from the last time it had been summoned, with its deep red streaks pouring from above the slitted eye sockets to below the lower jawbone, still grinning with a macabre smile.

A pair of mismatched eyes, two personas, stared out at the world, together for the first time. One eye, the left, a bright amber. The other eye, the right, a burning yellow framed by black scelera.

The figure wobbled, its tail swinging haphazardly for support as it swung its upperbody back and forth, head tilting from side to side in a critical fashion as it examined its body.

A few moments of silence. Then:

"A _lizard_?"

"_Yeah. Wha' were ya expectn'?_"

"Well, I don't know..."

"_Then shut it._"

An ear-splitting shriek cut the air as an enormous force smashed into them, claws raking into their side, causing them to give an animalistic shriek in turn as both felt the burning, tearing pain cut into their metaphysical body. Gritting itself against the pain the Hollow pressed its influence to the affected area stifling the pain and franticly knitting the flesh, skin, bone, muscle, and sinew and repairing the broken hierro exoskeleton seemlessly back together.

"How the hell are we supposed to fight like this? !"

"_You do th' fightin', I'll take care of th' rest! That attack shoulda knocked some balance inna yeh!_"

The offending hollow swung another scything paw at their face as Ichigo ducked underneath it, swinging his elbow underneath the beast's arm and across it's side drawing a sharp gash across it's grey hide. The hollow roared in turn, batting another heavy paw into Ichigo's stomach, throwing him several feet away, smashing head over heels down the road before he could catch himself, grinding to a halt on his hands and feet, claws tearing into to road underneath him. Uttering a quick snarl he pushed himself back to his feet, charging head on, fist pulled back, the connected part of his concious linking him to the hollow blazing with the borrowed power as it flared across their joined minds, the palm of his hand now glowing with a bloody red light.

"_Bala, straigh' to th' chest._"

"Got it."

He held the glowing energy in his fist as it pulsed violently, gaining energy with every second, snapping and crackling as its esscence reacted with the surrounding reishi around him.

"It's coming."

"_Almost. Wait fer it._"

"Hurry up! It's coming this way!"

"_NOW!_"

Ichigo thrusted his fist foward, feeling the blazing light scream past the side of his face leaving its heat in its wake like a miniature comet into the oncoming hollow's chest with a flash of white light and a roar of the impact.

"_Wait. It prob'bly ain't done yet. Those spines. They got some kinda toxin in 'em. if it's still movin' get it with tha'_"

"Right.."

A low wail echoed from the slowly fading flames revealing the heavily charred hollow, teeth bared in a defiant gesture, its tail snaking over its body, preping for its own attack.

"_Ge' ready. I'm gonna give you a sonido._"

Ichigo wordlessly nodded in return, preping himself into a slight crouch, eyes narrowed as the numbing feeling of reiatsu building under his heels in a familiar yet foreign sensation. Right when he tought he could not longer stand it the build up snapped like an elastic band, sending the world around him rushing in a multicolored blur then halting in the air above the enemy. Reacting on second's impulse Ichigo swung himself in a half-spin, sending his thick tail swinging in a wide arc, three quills hissing through the air and hitting their target.

The now invenomated hollow gave a sharp, keening wail before bonelessly crumpling onto the ground unable to make a move.

"Neurotoxin? I don't remember you having that ability..."

"_Adap'ion. It's th' survival of the fittest, Aibou. It ain't th' firs' time I've evolv'd. We should get 'round ta killing this thing then._"

"No."

"_Wha'? Whaddya mean? The toxin ain't gonna last forev'r._"

"We'll just leave it for Afro-san. He'd probably appreciate the sentimate."

"_Fine._" _"We..?"_

_/_

"Kurosaki..?"

No... He must be imagining things... there was no way. No way that Kurosaki would voluntarily coexist with his hollow. He wasn't even aware that the creature was sentient beyond being a force of killing nature. It was a _hollow._ Everything his grandfather had taught him on the nature of hollows was now being eradicated by the figure speaking with the convolted high-pitched voice and Kurosaki's own before his eyes.

Uryu's eyes narrowed and he unconciously gripped his right wrist in his left hand, the hand Kurosaki's hollow had mercilessly sliced off during his last rampage.

He'd get to the bottom of this even if it killed him.

/

"N-no way..." panting, Zennosuke ducked away, running haphazardly down an alleyway away from the horror he'd just caught glimpse of: an inhuman beast of a hollow, blasting away another lesser hollow with a monstrous blast of a bala. This... whatever it was, wasn't good, wasn't good at all.

"Gotta tell someone! Soul Society's gotta know about this!" he yelped skidding to a halt at a deadend, fumbling with his zanpakuto as he yanked it from his sheathe and jabbing it into the air calling a Senkaimon into being and rushing into the gateway before the doors were even halfway open. Now within Seritei boundaries he rushed from street to street, a few shunpo's thrown in, heading thoward the one place that was specificly designated for anything concerning unusual happenings in the World of the Living in the aftermath of the Winter War.

"Open up! I've got news!"

"State your business!" The voice on the other side of the gates barked.

"Unusual hollow activity in District 3600, Karakuracho! Adjuchas spotted with unusual reiatu levels! Open up!" rambled back, words almost humourously meshed together.

"Very well. Open the gates!" Said gates rumbled open, parting to reveal the on duty gatekeeper, a man of average height with somewhat greasey hair and an irritated expression. "Follow me, I'll take you to the Captain."

With a sharp bow, Zennosuke scrambled in as the gates boomed shut after him, following the other man's long strides.

"What exactly did you see?" The other man growled after a while as they strode past other shinigami in the division's hallways, all carrying documents of various sizes.

"A hollow, at least an adjuchas. I've never seen or felt anything like this one before. Crazy strong thing it was." Zennosuke gulped audibly as an unwanted thought came to him, "Maybe Aizen had something to do with it? Some kind of crazy scientific experiment that escaped from Hueco Mundo?"

The other man grunted at the idea. "Who knows. The hollows these days are getting stranger and stranger. Here we are. Present your buisness to the Captain and try not to irk him too much."

Nodding in sharp, birdlike jerks, Zennosuke knocked on the doors he'd been led to and waited, shivering with trepidation.

"Enter." an oily voice spoke from within, doors opening in a silky motion, as if greased.

Now shaking more than ever, Zennosuke scurried in the doors sliding shut behind him with a resounding boom, plunging the room into darkness.

"Who are you? Explain yourself."

"k-Kurumandani Zennosuke, assigned shimigami to World of the Living District 3600, Karakura town. Today at 9 A.M. I encountered an adjuchas of unnatural reiatsu levels."

Kurotsuchi Mayuri leaned foward in his seat, a malicious leer spread across his features. "_Reeeally? _Please. Go on. I'd love to learn more."


End file.
